Awake & Dead
by malicious pixie
Summary: A series of tragic events leads Dante back to the past he'd been trying to forget and all of a sudden he finds himself fighting for the evil he'd vowed to destroy. Will the darkness rise because of him?
1. Prologue

Alright so this fic may have a sequel or I may just make it one long story.  I can't make up my mind.  Also this is going to be pretty dark, I think, so just be prepared, though I don't think I need to put any higher a rating.  Whatever

This chapter's just a prologue or something.  I wanted to put this in before jumping right into the story.

Anways,

Enjoy

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**Awake & Dead**

            Nelo Angelo gazed with morbid interest at the blood dripping off his sword and onto the floor, forming pools and rivers at his feet and around the hunter's near-lifeless body.  The white-haired man watched him with glazed eyes, warm blood seeping from his eyes, nose and mouth.  He coughed and sputtered sickly as the devil's sword was twisted inside him and his ribs cracked.  He gave one final gasp of agony before the sword in his abdomen-his own sword-and that of Nelo's were ripped violently from his body, scissoring him in half.

            The moment his sword was free, Nelo felt a violent shudder move through his body as the amulet around the deceased hunter's neck began to glow.  His own suddenly appeared from inside him and he sank to his knees form the burning pain it sent through his chest and limbs.

            In an instant he lost control of the devil inside him and returned to his human form, screaming.

He fell over the body before him, unable to avoid looking into the pale eyes of the deceased man.  Forgotten memories of his past flooded back.

            "No..." Nelo croaked feebly, "...This can't...Is he?"

He touched the red stone on the chain around his neck and then smoothed his hand against the hunter's, hearing a familiar woman's voice in his head.

His eyes widened.

He ran towards the window, hoping to catch his reflection in the glass.  His heart skipped a beat as he froze before the hazy image of himself.  He raised his hands and touched his cheek.

It was true...he looked just like him.

Nelo gazed back at the bloodied corpse and somehow felt his feet approaching by themselves.  He sank beside the dead man.  His face was blank.

"Brother," he whispered.

Laughter erupted around him.

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Really short but basically sets up the story.  In any case the next chapter is done.

Remember to REVIEW.


	2. Laughter in the Darkness

Yeah so here's the first chap...hm i don't really have anything else to say except remember to review.

And as always,

Enjoy

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**Awake & Dead**

**_Chapter 1: Laughter in the Darkness_**

"Come one, come all-to the spectacle of all spectacles. Come be amazed by the big top-the clowns-the trapeze. Don't miss out on the final show before we take to the road again. Get your popcorn. Get your treats. Make sure you have your tickets! Tonight's show promises to be the most exhilarating. Come one, come all. The big top is waiting. Don't miss out!"

'Yeah? Just watch me,' thought Dante as he stood beside Trish in a line of excited people waiting to be admitted into the large, red and white striped tent that housed the circus' main attraction. He tried to drown out the sound of the man shouting through the megaphone a short ways away, but he quickly found that the rest of the noise around him was equally as irritating. He could hear the bangs and pops from the various game stands, the annoying jingle of the carousel music and the laughs, cheers and normal banter of the crowd milling about the fair grounds.

He didn't want to be at the circus. He didn't know why Trish had even suggested it. It wasn't there style. Demon hunting was their style-not standing in a line to see a bunch of clowns fall over each other or get hit in the face with pies. The circus was definitely not Dante's idea of a good time.

"Explain to me, again, why we're here," he asked grumpily.

Trish stopped watching a group of children and turned her smile on him, "Because we're here to have a good time and because I've never been to the circus before, have you?"

"No."

"Well there you go. It's something new and different."

Dante scowled. "I don't do new and different."

Trish shrugged, "Well at least it's a break from devil hunting."

"Who said I needed a break? I like wasting devils."

"I know you do," Trish sighed, "And I do to. I just needed a change of scenery."

"...And you chose the circus."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing...It's just that if you wanted to do something other than hunt, why didn't you choose dinner and a movie? That's what normal couples do. The circus is for teenagers and parents trying to amuse their kids-We don't have any kids and we're not teenagers."

"You could have fooled me," said Trish evenly, looking away from Dante. "The way you're acting right now, you're worse than a child. I can't believe you're taking a tantrum over spending a few measly hours at the circus."

Dante folded his arms. "I'm not taking a tantrum-"

"No? Well you're certainly being very immature," Trish said, watching a couple trying to control their bouncing children at the head of the line, "I just thought this would be fun for us both-but I obviously made a big mistake. All you've done since we got here is sulk. You haven't made any effort to enjoy yourself at all."

Dante frowned. "That's not true."

"Right," mumbled Trish, "You've just been a ball of sunshine the whole time."

"Well what the hell, Trish?" Dante said with rising anger, "The circus isn't my thing-ok. I can't force myself to have a good time."

"Then pretend, Dante," said Trish, exasperated. "Smile just to humor me. I don't care what it takes. Just be pleasant from now on, Ok?-because I've had enough. You don't want to see the show? Fine. Leave. Go wander around for half and hour. Wait in the car. Do whatever the hell you want. I'll watch the show by myself if I have to but I'm not going to listen to any more complaining. Alright?" She held Dante steadily in her gaze, "Alright?"

"...yeah," Dante nodded coldly,

"Good," Trish murmured, turning back to watch the children on the carousel.

Dante followed her gaze, "What's with all the kids anyway?"

"What do you mean, what's with all the kids?" Trish asked shortly, "They're here to enjoy themselves. According to you, that's what the circus is for."

"No," said Dante, "I mean, why do you keep watching them? I've noticed you doing that since we got here."

Trish went quiet.

"Trish-"

"Come one, come all!!! Show your tickets and find your seats. The show is about to begin. Come..."

"Fuck," Dante glared at the man with the megaphone as the line of people moved forward.

Trish turned to him. "Here," she said, handing him a ticket, "In case you grow up."

"Trish-" Dante began but the blond woman had already skipped the line and disappeared through the opening of the tent.

He watched her go and then looked down at the ticket in his hand. He didn't want to see the show, but he also didn't want to sit alone in the parking lot, moping pathetically, while everyone else was either at the show or having fun.

Breathing gruffly, he stomped off towards the tent.

"Better hurry or you'll miss the show," the man called amusedly over the megaphone.

Dante turned to him, eyes flashing. "Miss this," he growled, leveling the guy with his fist and almost ramming the megaphone down his throat.

A few onlookers gaped in horror while others, heading towards the final show made a hasty retreat away from the main tent, dragging their protesting children with them towards the parking lot.

Dante stood and smiled, regaining his composure. He didn't care what people thought or who he had scared away.

He reached the tent entrance and stopped, feeling a pair of eyes on him. He twisted his head around and saw a gypsy woman watching him from the dark doorway of her tent.

"What?" he asked curtly.

The woman shook her head slowly.

Dante looked back the man he had had just incapacitated. "He'll live," he said.

"It is not that," the woman spoke in a thick accent, "I sense great evil surrounding you."

Dante smirked. "Tell me something I don't know, lady." His eyes glinted with a demonic light, "I'm half devil."

"No..." Again the fortune teller shook her head. "It is more than that. You alone are not the evil I sense, and I fear that great sorrow will soon befall you."

"Oh yeah?" Dante strode up to her stall, "And did your crystal ball tell you all that."

"I do not need a crystal ball to see the danger you bring."

"Right," Dante huffed, pulling out his wallet, "And how much do I owe you for that little bit of information?"

"I do not wish for payment," the woman said calmly, "I merely wish to warn the son of Sparda of the encroaching darkness."

"Son of Sparda?" Dante said, startled, "You know who I am?"

"Yes," the woman nodded, "Beware, Dante, for your life will no longer be the same after tonight."

A loud shot fired in the big tent as the show began. Dante looked around and when he turned back to the gypsy's stall, she had disappeared.

"Crazy broad," he mumbled and jogged off to the tent, quickly handing over his ticket to the person at the entrance.

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The doors of the tent were closed behind him and Dante was left stumbling around in the unlit path between the sets of bleachers. He had no idea where Trish was sitting and there was no way of telling where she had gone because only the perches where the acrobats were performing were lit.

The crowd was in almost quiet amazement as the figures on the trapeze swung and twisted their supple bodies through the air for everyone's enjoyment. Occasionally a resounding cheer would break out, but Dante couldn't tell from the noise whether Trish was a part of it.

Dante was still tripping over people in his search when the acrobats finished and the large spotlight came down on the center of the arena. A loud voice welcomed everyone once again to the final show and asked the crowd for applause for the trapeze artists. Afterwards, the speaker introduced the clowns who ambled around the arena, performing various tricks and stunts to elicit laughter from the audience. Dante watched a bit but quickly grew tired of their antics.

As he looked on he could also feel his breath constricting in his chest when he glanced over at the clown wearing a large tattered green jacket and skull-like make-up that stood out from the bright and humorous attire of the other performers.

The ghostly clown walked up to the center of the ring and just stood there, waiting beside the MC. His sunken eyes seemed to be combing the crowd, and for an instant, as they rested on Dante, the devil hunter felt a strong shiver run up his spine.

The clown continued to gaze at the crowd but his mouth curled up at the corners in a satisfied smirk. Dante looked wearily back, hoping to catch something in his face but he had already turned towards the MC and nodded.

The MC lifted his microphone to his lips. "Now ladies and gentle...Jester would like to perform a stunt to test the courage of one of you," he said, motioning to the dark clown beside him. "We will now ask for a volunteer from the crowd. Someone brave, who is not afraid to stare death in the face."

The crowd rose up in cheers. People stood and hands were raised and frantically waved to get the MC's attention, but Dante already knew who had been chosen and before he could move, he was blinded by an intense spotlight beaming over him.

"Well I think we have a volunteer," cried the MC, drawing applause from the crowd.

Dante stood helplessly on the stairs, feeling completely exposed but the light and eager faces watching him. He wondered briefly if he could make a run for the exit, but quickly abandoned the thought as he remembered that Trish was in the audience somewhere. He didn't want her thinking that he was immature and spineless all in the same day.

"Come now," called the MC, smiling from the arena, "I think he needs some encouragement!" His hand waved up and down at the crowd, making the clapping and cheering rise until it sounded like a long roll of thunder.

Dante closed his eyes and breathed deeply as he took the first step towards the sandy arena. He was having difficulty controlling his growing anxiety. His heart was beating quicker and his hands were tingling with every step that brought him closer to the ring. He hoped that it was just stage fright and not the fact that Jester seemed to be oozing evil through his pores.

Dante knew that Jester was watching him-of course everyone was-but the dark clown was the only one Dante was concerned with. He came to the bottom of the stairs and walked towards the MC, seeing Jester's lips spread into a disconcerting smile that he hoped to forget.

'Fuck. Get a grip, Dante,' he told himself, trying to calm his nerves a little. 'Stop letting him affect you. He's just a clown.'

He came up to the center of the ring and stopped a few feet from Jester and the MC.

'Just a clown,' Dante thought. 'Right-and nobody's afraid of clowns...'

"You made it!" shouted the MC, "Did you have a pleasant trip? I hope traveling wasn't too hard on you."

Dante smiled indulgingly at the attempt on humor and took the opportunity to scan the crowd. He still couldn't see Trish but he knew she was definitely out there.

"And what is your name, brave volunteer?" asked the MC when the laughter had died down.

"Dante," the devil hunter mumbled into the microphone held out to him. He noticed a twinkle come into Jester's eye as he mentioned his name.

"DANTE!" cried the MC. The crowd broke out in deafening cheers and applause. "Well Dante, your task is very simple," the MC continued, placing his hand on the white-haired man's shoulder, "All you have to do is stand in one place while Jester and his companions juggle various blades and flaming objects around you. And you must, of course, stay deathly still otherwise you may end up that way permanently," the MC said in a light chuckle that hushed the crowd. They waited, expecting Dante to back out.

Dante clenched a fist, looking darkly in Jester's direction. "Alright," he said into the microphone, "I can do that."

While the audience whistled and clapped their approval, Dante was told to stand on an X previously outlined in the sand. Two clowns positioned themselves in front and behind him, each holding three long curved sword. Dante could tell by the way the light glinted off them that they were real and very sharp.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jester and the MC watching him with interest.

The MC held up a hand to silence the crowd. "This stunt requires precision and concentration. Any noise could result in the demise of our brave young friend, so I must ask the audience to remain as quiet as possible throughout the spectacle and to keep all cheers and applause until after Dante survives." He bowed and stepped out of the spotlight to signal Jester and the clowns to begin.

The first blade whisked by Dante's head. He felt a cool breeze rustle his hair as the swords continued to switch hands, passing back and forth to each clown. Jester added a new blade every once in a while until there were twelve lethally sharpened blades skimming through the air, close to Dante's body.

The silver hunter remained relaxed and kept his breathing steady, trusting fully in the entertainers' juggling skills. He'd been closer to death in battles and was not going to let swords whizzing by his face bother him now. The only trouble was avoiding a glance at Jester. Dante wanted to keep an eye on him but knew that if he looked at the clown's face, his calm would shatter in an instant.

Five minutes into the juggling act, two more clowns were added on either side of Dante. The one on the left, he knew without having to look was Jester. He could tell by the way the air changed around him. Dante suddenly got short of breath and felt like a frigid hand was stroking the back of his neck and moving down his spine. He nearly shivered but held his composure. He didn't want to move a muscle because of all the swords rushing by.

The new arrivals grasped three flaming torches each and immediately began tossing them to one another the moment they stepped into place and got them into rhythm over their heads.

The flames danced through the air and expertly crossed the paths of the dozen swords. Dante couldn't help holding his breath as the clowns gradually began to move out of position and come around him in a circle. He knew that Jester would eventually make his way to face him and he was preparing himself to look into the clown's soulless eyes.

The sand crunched with every calculated step the performers took. Dante could hear Jester's footfalls edging ever closer. He closed his eyes, telling his body to stay cool. His pulse was getting rapid and he needed to calm down. He just couldn't explain why the clown was having such an effect on him. He'd only been this scared once in his life and it was so long ago. He had been just a kid, but the fear was the same.

He was chilled to the bone and weak in the knees. It took all his strength to keep from collapsing or blacking out. He kept his teeth ground together to stop them from chattering and he balled his shaking hands into fists.

All Dante needed now was the insidious laughter he had etched in his mind and it would be all over for him.

He opened his eyes to the sounds of demonic laughter.

Bloody Mari stood before him; its body drooped to one side and its spindly arms madly flinging swords through the air past him. Dante's pale eyes widened in surprise and he stumbled back a step, feeling a blade clip him across the cheek. The warm blood rose and trickled down his face, slowly edging along his neck.

He froze in place before another sword could slice him, but unfortunately had already stepping into the path of the fiery torches. Flames shot out from either side of him, directed by a pair of Fetishes and as he darted out of the way, a blade caught him across the side and a blast of fire across his chest.

He fell to his knees, gasping and holding his lacerated side. His fingers touched Ebony's smooth handle beneath his coat and before he knew it, his hands were closing around both handguns.

In an instant, he stood and had his weapons aimed at the demons in front and to his side.

"DANTE!!!!!!" shrieked someone from the crowd.

The lights in the tent came on and Dante watched the clowns drop their swords and torches with fear and scramble away as fast as they could.

The horror stricken crowd began racing towards the exit in a stampede. Trish ran down from the stands and leapt into the arena.

"Put them away," she ordered loudly, meeting Dante in the center of the ring, but before the white-haired hunter could react to her command; she grabbed his arm and dragged him hastily towards the performers' exit of the tent to avoid the terrified crowd. They ran through the deserted back stage and exited the tent.

Trish pulled Dante behind an empty cotton candy stand.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she hissed the moment they were alone, "What were you thinking? Why did you bring them here?"

Dante looked hazily down at Ebony and Ivory. He couldn't speak. He had no idea what was going on.

Trish slapped him.

"Are you insane?" she yelled, "What were you thinking? There were children in there, Dante-Children. Do you hate the circus so much that you'd be willing endanger them just to waste a few harmless entertainers?"

Dante looked up and saw tears in the blond woman's eyes. "Trish, I..."

He didn't know what to say. He wasn't sure if he could tell Trish what had happened-what he thought he'd seen. He didn't want to think about it again.

"I...don't know what happened"

Trish bit her lip. "Wonderful," she almost sobbed, "Innocent children could have been killed-But that's okay because you don't know what happened."

Dante snarled. "What are you talking about? I wasn't trying to kill any clowns. They were demons!"

Trish's eyes widened in shock, "Oh my God," she said unbelievingly, "You've completely lost your mind."

"No-" Dante started, "They were demons...two marionettes and two fetishes. I know what I saw. I can't explain it. But they were there-Jester-"

"Oh what?" Trish said, frustrated, "Now you're going to tell me that that harmless looking clown was out to get you?"

"Harmless?" Dante cried, "Are you blind? Did you not see his face? It was a skull!"

"You really have gone insane, haven't you?" Trish whispered. "You honestly think that the clown with the big red wig and bright red nose tried to kill you."

Dante shook his head. "He wasn't wearing a bright red anything. He was all faded. He looked like the walking dead."

"He was wearing a vibrant green jacket and orange pants, Dante, and as far as I could tell, he was nowhere near evil looking. I don't know what you saw, but you're obviously not on the same planet as the rest of us."

"But-"

Trish reached into Dante's pocket and lifted out his keys. "I'm taking the car," she said, walking away.

Dante began to follow.

"Alone," Trish said over her shoulder.

Dante stopped, "What do I do?"

"Walk."

"The city's miles away!"

"I know," Trish remarked, "It should give you plenty of time to regain some sense."

"But Trish-"

"Look," Trish whirled around. Tears streaked down her cheeks but she was suddenly very serious. "I don't know what's up with you today, but you're really scaring me and I'm tired of trying to figure you out."

"Me?" Dante said incredulously, "What about you? I'm not the only one acting weird today. You never did tell me what all the kid stalking was about."

Trish sighed. "If you haven't figured it out by now, Dante, I guess it's just too bad for you. It'll be obvious in a while. But right now, though, I'm just not sure I'm ready to tell you. I don't need you flipping out on me anymore tonight."

"Trish, I won't-"

The blond woman reached the parking lot and walked towards Dante's car, feeling the hunter's eyes on her all the way. She swung open the door to the driver's seat and got behind the wheel.

"I'll see you at home," she said quietly and started the car.

Dante watched her drive out of the deserted parking lot and head down the road. When she was out of sight, he angrily launched a fist into the nearby support of a game stand and knocked it to the ground.

"FUCK!"

Now Trish not only thought he was immature, but also completely off his rocker and she was keeping a secret from him that he was already supposed to have figured out.

"Damn it!" Dante kicked the pile of wood and material at his feet, "How can things get any worse?"

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Famous last words, huh....

Anyway, that's it for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed it.

PLEASE please please REVIEW.

I really wanna know if this is interesting enough to continue.


	3. Gauntway

Yay!!! I got a lot more reviews than I was expecting for the first few chapters. Big big thanks to any and all who took the time to review. I appreciate it.

I also found it amusing to hear what you guys thought of the prologue thing...All I can say is you guys are in for a big surprise later on from your assessments....grins maliciously

Anywho-idge

Enjoy the next chap,

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**Awake & Dead**

**_Chapter 2: Gauntway_**

The lid grated the rim of the stone coffin and landed on the floor with an echoing thud. The newly awakened vampire sat up and blinked in the darkness of the mausoleum, taking in a deep breath of stuffy air. The small stone building smelled rankly of death and he frowned at the stench, climbing out of his resting place. He would be happy to be out of his tomb.

Patting off a small accumulation of centuries of dust, he made his way towards the exit and pushed open the large slab door. The moonlight filtered in and lit the doorway of the mausoleum. The figure breathed again, glad for the night's fresh breeze, and straightened his fingers through his long, dark brown hair. In the light, his astonishingly pale green eyes almost disappeared.

He looked around the cemetery, crowded with graves and other mausoleums. Much had changed since he'd gone to sleep and the hills that formed Gauntway were now filled with the resting places of people passed away over the centuries. It had been empty the last time he'd seen it. It had been his property and his home but now Gauntway belonged to the hundreds of bodies whose souls had left them. The former manor where he had grown up was all but torn down where it sat, decrepit yards away, and the front lawn that stood before it had become a cemetery for people who had never stepped foot in the manor, let alone knew who had once lived there.

The tall man shook his head, forcing his disappointment and hurt aside. He had not reawakened to reclaim any real estate, only to kill. The hunter that he sensed approaching had brought him back to life and he was looking forward to meeting him.

"Sparda..." he whispered, smiling and scanning the graveyard for a place to wait for the devil hunter.

His eyes fell on a small pond at the base of a hill, near the center of Gauntway; something-a little girl-thrashed in the water while two boys amused themselves by throwing rocks at her.

The dark-haired man scowled and walked silently down the path and veered off towards the two boys.

"I do hope you are enjoying yourselves, children."

The small boys turned, immediately dropping their stones upon seeing the vampire's pale face. They looked at him frightened and unable to speak.

The dark figure frowned and folded his arms. "Is it customary for children nowadays not to answer an elder's question?"

Both boys remained silent, but looked down at the rocks at their feet, puzzled and terrified.

"Is it not past your bedtimes?" the vampire asked sternly. He got almost imperceptible nods from the boys in return. "Then should you not be leaving? It would be a shame if something were to happen to you two...or do neither of you fear death?"

He stepped closer and the boys looked up, eyes widening as he bared his sharp teeth. He knelt.

"Do you know what a vampire is?" he asked softly.

The boys gaped at him.

"Do you know what it is vampires do to their victims?" he continued.

The boys were too petrified to answer but the dark-haired man could tell by the look in their eyes that they understood his meaning.

He smiled. "Leave," he whispered, "Run away before I choose to satiate my hunger with you two."

The boys made to run but the vampire grabbed them by their shoulders. He felt them shaking in his grip as he turned them back towards the pond and the girl, sitting in the rushes, sopping wet.

"Apologize," he commanded, without having to say the words.

The boys complied, stuttering quick apologies before taking off as fast as they could towards Gauntway's exit. The girl climbed shakily to her feet and eyed the dark-haired man with interest.

"Thank you," she said sweetly and through chattering teeth, but without any noticeable fear in her voice.

The vampire stood and walked over, looming above the girl. "You are not afraid?"

The girl shook her head. "Uhn uhn-nope," she smiled. "What's your name? My name's Darylia. But you can just call me Dary-That's what my mum and dad call me. My brother calls me Dairy-but I don't like that. He's stupid anyway and-"

"Stavios," the vampire interrupted, "My name is Stavios."

"Stavios?" the girl chirped, "That's a weird name. Where'd you get that? Is it short for something? Can I call you Stavey? Cuz then it would be shorter and I could remember it better cuz it's kinda like my name-"

"No," Stavios said shortly, "My name is not short for anything and you my not call me Stavey. You also should not worry about remembering my name because we shall not be meeting again."

Dary frowned slightly, "But you're a vampire...doesn't that mean you live in a cemetery?"

"Yes."

"This one?"

"...yes...for the time being."

Dary smiled excitedly, "Well then I'll come and visit you and you can scare away all the mean boys and I'll bring us supper and we can have a picnic and-"

"No," the vampire raised his hand to stop the girl's chattering, "There will be no picnic bec-"

"Oh that's right!" Dary exclaimed, "You don't eat real food. You drink blood right?"

Stavios sighed.

"Well you don't have to worry. I'll bring some nasty boys from my class over and you can eat them and I'll have my supper so we can still have a picnic." Dary bounced around excitedly, looking around the graveyard. "Where do you live?" she asked, "Did you come out of the ground? Were you buried? Did somebody bury you alive?"

"No I-"

"Oh yeah, you'd be dead if somebody buried you alive, eh?" the girl smiled, "So were you sleeping in a coffin? Was it comfortable? Did you sleep okay? How old are you? How long have you been a vampire? Did it hurt when you got turned into one? Is your family still alive? How many people have you killed? Does blood taste good? How much do you drink? Have you turned anyone else into a vampire? Ca-"

"For the love of God, STOP!" Stavios yelled, massaging the bridge of his nose. "Do you always ask so many questions?"

"Yup," Dary chirped, "I like asking questions."

"And do you ever listen for the answers?"

Dary was quiet for a moment. "Can you make me a vampire?" she asked, brightly, "Cuz then I can get back at the boys at school who pick on me and then you and me can get married and be vampires together and-"

"No," Stavios said gravely, "I will not make you a vampire. I would not wish this hell on anyone-besides you are far too young."

"But I'm almost 9-years-old," Dary argued, pulling at the vampire's sleeve, "Pleeeeeaze," she whined.

Stavios frowned and pulled his arm away, "I am not making you a vampire. And I believe it is time you went home and bothered someone else with your incessant babble. I am sure your family must be missing it-you."

"Yeah," Dary said, "But I don't wanna go back. You're much more fun than they are." She smiled. "Hey, wanna play tag-or hide and seek? I'll be 'It'"

Stavios slighed loudly.

"...or you could be 'It' first," Dary beamed, "I don't mind."

Stavios breathed to calm himself but he could already feel the darkness flaring in his veins. He turned to Dary, his eyes flashing momentarily. "Leave!" he hissed, trying to push away his desire to harm the little girl. Already the thought of her sweet, innocent blood rolling down the back of his throat was overwhelming.

He lashed out, pushing her out of the way as she just stood there; completely unaware of the peril she was in.

"Stavey?" she asked, falling to the ground. "I don't get it. Are we playing tag or hide and seek? Cuz first you told me to leave, so I thought you wanted me to hide and then you pushed me, so am I 'It' now or what?"

"LEAVE NOW!!!" Stavios barked at the girl, but she did not move.

Dary furrowed her brow, "Leave to do what? What are we playing?"

"We're not playing," Stavios said through gritted teeth, leaning over and clutching his stomach."

"Oh!" Dary said, smiling, "You have a stomach ache. That's okay. We don't have to play right now. We could just sit here and talk until you feel better." She moved towards the dark-haired man and touched his shoulder. "See," she pointed, "We can sit by that tree and look at the water or the stars. There's a lot of 'em today and maybe we'll see a shooting star and we can each make a wish. I've always wanted to, but I never remember in time when I see one. But maybe if we're both looking, one of us'll remember."

Dary reached down and grabbed Stavios' hand, attempting to pull him towards the tree, but he wouldn't move.

"Come on!" she said, "You're tummy'll feel better when you sit down. Co-"

"I told you to leave," he said darkly, "I told you to go home. Why didn't you listen to me? Why are you making me do this?"

He raised his head and Dary shrank from the look in his eyes, letting go of his hand and taking a step back.

"What happened to your eyes?" she asked apprehensively, "The black's gone."

"...yes," Stavios grinned, no longer holding his stomach, "My pupils have paled...that is what happens when I am about to kill."

Dary's eyes widened, for the first time fearful of the vampire. "T-to kill?" she asked weakly, her knees shaking as Stavios began advancing on her. In the moonlight his eyes shone eerily.

"Do you fear me now, Dary?" he asked, grinning as the girl tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground.

"Y-yes," she sobbed.

"Good," Stavios got to his knees beside the shaking girl, "You should. But it is a shame you were so accepting of me before, otherwise you would have run off like those boys and I would not have to do this right now." He wiped the tears off Dary's cheek, "Such a shame," he said, baring his teeth.

"P-please," Dary whimpered, "I d-d-don't w-want y-you to s-s-suck my b-blood."

"No?" Stavios raised an eyebrow, "But you wanted me to make you a vampire before and I would have had to suck your blood to do that. What is so different about me taking your blood to kill you? Being a vampire, you are not really alive anyway."

Dary scrunched her eyes, tears leaking out the corners. "P-please d-don't...I j-just wa-wan-na-na go h-home."

Stavios smiled and his pupils darkened. He took Dary's hands and pulled her to her feet. "Very well," he said, "Go before I change my mind about you."

Dary opened her eyes in shock. "Really?" she sniffled. "I-I can go?"

"Yes," the vampire said, "And I do not wish to find you in this cemetery-or any others-again. Is that clear? There are very few vampires who are as lenient as I am."

Dary nodded energetically, "Yes, tha-"

"GO," Stavios commanded, pointing towards Gauntway's iron gate, "You're going to catch cold. Just go."

"Ok," Dary ran away, holding her arms against the chill, she turned at the gate, "BYE STAVEY!" she called and slipped through the gate.

Stavios shook his head, feeling his blood suddenly chill at the thought that he had almost killed a child. His desire had never been that strong before. He had never preyed on-or been so close to bleeding an innocent until this night. He hoped that it was only the desire for blood that had been building up over the centuries, even though it was not an excuse he would allow himself to accept.

He was starving...but the devil hunter would change all that.

****

Dante was still griping to himself as he walked along the dirt road. It was dark and he couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him at a time.

'Trish could have at least given me a flashlight or something.'

He had been hoping at first that Trish was only messing with him and he would find her waiting for him somewhere down the road, or maybe come back for him in fifteen minutes, when she realized she'd been too hard on him, but he quickly realized that the blond woman was just as stubborn as he was.

"I can't believe she left me in the middle of nowhere! There aren't even any cars coming down this road for me to hitch a ride with!"

The traffic on the country road was few and far between. When a car did happen to pass by, it was heading in the wrong direction and Dante couldn't manage to get the driver to stop anyway.

The thought of flying back to the city in his devil form had even crossed his mind, but Dante wasn't sure if he could hold out for such a long trip.

In any case he was tired and discouraged by the fact that he didn't really know where he was going and he couldn't see his way to begin with.

The events of the night had freaked him out and he found himself on his guard at even the slightest noise. Everything seemed to echo and become more menacing sounding at night.

Something was also nagging at the back of his mind, like he was going the wrong way, or being drawn towards something. Dante couldn't tell who or what, but something was calling him. He was sure of it. And he was getting closer to the source.

"Dammit! Where the hell am I go-AGH?"

Dante coughed as two objects charged into this stomach and bounced off. He quickly realized they were young boys as they stared down the barrels of Ebony and Ivory.

Dante pulled his arms away, holstering his guns. "Sorry," he said.

The boys wearily got their feet.

"What the hell are you guys doing on a road like this in the middle of the night?" Dante asked, taking a deep breath to slow his rapidly beating heart. "I could have killed you. Don't you have families to get back to?"

The boys gulped in unison.

"Yeah," one said, "We were just going home."

The shorter of the two nodded, "That's right. We were playing in the cemetery up there," the child pointed but Dante couldn't see through the darkness to what the child was directing his attention to, "We were playing and a vampire attacked us."

Dante frowned, "A vampire?"

"Yeah," the boys said animatedly, "He wanted to kill us but we got away."

Dante folded his arms, watching the children, unamused. 'What does Trish see in them anyway?'

"Hey," the taller boy yelled, "You have guns, mister, you should go kill him!"

"Yeah," cried the other boy, "That's a great idea."

"No it isn't," said Dante.

"Yes it is!" said shorter boy, "That vampire wouldn't be a match for your guns."

"Yeah! They're really cool," admired his friend, "I bet you could kill him with one shot."

"Probably," Dante mumbled, "But I won't"

"Why not?" the boys asked together.

"Why not?" exclaimed Dante, "Do I look like fucking Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I don't do vampires, okay? Especially not for two annoying kids I just bumped into."

"Ah, c'mon..."

"Please mister..."

"No," Dante yelled, "Now go home and leave me alone."

"Fine," the smaller boy pouted.

"Yeah, you suck," said the other before they both ran off, leaving Dante once again alone on the road.

"...damn kids," he grumbled, "As if I'm gonna go to a cemetery and kill a vampire, which probably is just a figment of their imaginations anyway. They must have just been freaked out by a tree..."

But even as the words left his lips, Dante realized that he was headed for the cemetery after all. His feet seemed to be guiding him there of their own accord and he couldn't stop himself.

In ten minutes he found himself standing before the tall, wrought iron gates of the cemetery. The name _Gauntway_ was just visible enough in the full moon light.

'Great, what the hell am I doing here?'

"BYE STAVIOS!"

Dante heard a girl yell to someone before he was forced to dodge out of the way of the speeding girl. She ran right passed him and didn't acknowledge his presence.

'Stavios?'

****

The dark-haired vampire sat back against a tree, eyes closed and breathing smoothly. He was trying to hold his hunger at bay until the hunter arrived, but it wasn't long before he felt the man's presence.

He rose to his feet, grinning as he saw the white-haired demon hunter coming into Gauntway. The man would not be leaving the cemetery if he had anything to do with it.

"Come to me," he beckoned soundlessly, watching the hunter weave between the graves until he stood a few feet from him.

Dante studied him with his eyes, "You the vampire?"

Stavios smirked and instantly swung out a fist, dropping the hunter to the ground.

Dante tasted the blood in his mouth. He wasn't really hurt, but the punch had been enough to damage his pride a little. He glared at the man stooped over him, his head pounding with rage,

"Who the hell do you think you are?" he blinked, lifting himself angrily off the ground and rubbing his jaw.

The vampire straightened and held a hand to his chest in mock apology. "Please forgive me," he said, "I did not realize it was customary for hunters and their prey to share life stories before entering into battle. You must think me terribly rude for attacking you just now."

Dante narrowed his eyes. "Rude wasn't the word I was thinking of," he said, "But I don't want your life story-just a name."

The taller man smirked, "Stavios, then," he said, taking a step closer, "Will that be sufficient?"

Dante didn't say anything. He looked around him at the darkened cemetery, lit only by the full moon, wondering if the man really was a vampire. At least it would explain why he was hanging out in a cemetery in the dead of night. He didn't notice Stavios come around him.

"A simple yes or no will do," the dark-haired man said quietly in his ear.

Dante jumped and swung around. "How did you do that? I didn't see you move."

"Well no, you wouldn't have," said Stavios, "You were much too busy daydreaming...Care to share your thoughts?"

Dante scowled at being taken by surprise for a second time. "I ran into some kids who said they'd seen a vampire. I was wondering if it was you, cause you definitely seem like more than just a pretty face."

"Do I," Stavios grinned, showing Dante his teeth, "I suppose it would appear that I am a vampire, now wouldn't it?"

"...yeah. I guess it would."

"Well then," Stavios said, clapping his hands together, "Familiarities aside, shall we get on to business, son of the Legendary Dark Knight Sparda?"

"Business?" Dante asked, shocked, 'How does everyone know who I am? Is this the evil that that whack-job lady warned me about? 'No,' he eyed Stavios, 'It couldn't be him. He doesn't seem that strong...i think.'

Stavios frowned, "Have you not finished daydreaming yet? Must we postpone your death until your mind has finished gazing into the clouds? I must say I have been waiting centuries for new blood and I am quickly growing impatient with your mindlessness."

"What?"

Dante fell to the ground as a punch collided with his left temple. He saw sparks before his eyes and was soon holding his already wounded side in agony.

Stavios' eyes danced at the sight of the hunter's blood on his boot. He licked his lips and kicked Dante again in his torn side, making him writhe onto his back. He pressed his foot onto his chest and glared.

"You are not putting up much of a fight for someone who is so renowned. I expected much better from you Young Sparda. Perhaps my credit to you was misplacesd."

Dante looked fiercely at the vampire.

"You took me by surprise, that's all. You didn't fight fair."

Stavios shook his head and pressed his heel down on Dante's chest until the white-haired mercenary cried out at the sound of his rib cracking. "Who ever decided what is fair and unfair in a fight, Young Sparda?" he asked, continuing to put pressure on the rib until it broke and separated and Dante shrieked, grabbing the man's boot and trying to yank him off.

The vampire stomped on Dante's chest to make him release his leg and he hopped to the side, waiting for the hunter's moaning to quiet. He watched Dante painfully get to his feet, but noticed he was seething.

"You fucking bastard," the devil hunter hissed through clenched teeth, "You're gonna fuckin wish I was as goddamn weak as you seem to think I am."

Stavios smirked, "Such profanity. I do hope you did not use your entire vocabulary in that one sentence."

Dante ignored the comment and was already building up energy. A blue aura surrounded him and it grew larger until he roared demonically and transformed into his devil state.

He lunged at the dark-haired man, swooping into the air and coming quickly down. Stavios raised his arms in protection.

_Flash_

Stavios smirked. "Such profanity. I do hope you did not use your entire vocabulary in that one sentence."

Dante felt the demon rise inside him and he quickly changed into his devil form; climbing into the air for a diving attack. The vampire raised his arms to shield himself. Dante stopped the attack.

_Flash_

"Such profanity-"

"I do hope you did not use your entire vocabulary in that one sentence, right?" Dante asked, seeing Stavios' shocked face.

The vampire nodded, slowly, understanding.

Dante frowned, "So I'm not the only one with a serious case of déjà vu then?"

Stavios returned the scowl, "So it would seem." He looked squarely at Dante. "Déjà vu is never a good sign, especially if it is shared by more than one party."

"Whoa," Dante smirked, "Don't go all Matrix on me now."

Stavios lifted an eyebrow, "Matrix?"

"...uh-nevermind," said Dante, "So what does this déja vu mean anyway?"

Stavios sighed, "It happened twice so it means that it is not a simple case of us believing we have already experienced an event. Someone is manipulating time and I believe it has something to do with you, Young Sparda."

> "Dante."

"Dante then," Stavios corrected, "I strongly believe that someone is altering time to affect your life in some way-probably for the worst."

> "And what makes you think that this déja vu shit isn't about you?" Dante asked angrily.

Stavios sighed, "Because I am not the son of Sparda and I have never had any encounters with the darkness Mundus, despite my age. I have been asleep for centuries and only awoke tonight."

> "To kill me?"
> 
> "Yes."
> 
> "Lucky me."

Stavios waved a hand at him, "You should feel honored. I only prey on the strongest devil hunters."

"And what about the strongest devils?"

"I have my reasons for wanting to kill the hunters, but that is none of your concern."

Dante shrugged, "Whatever."

_Flash_

Dante burst through the bedroom door and froze in his footsteps, his feet squishing into the blood soaked carpet. Cooling blood seeped down his hand from the doorway and he jerked his arm back in surprise and horror. The bedroom was spattered in blood as if someone had exploded a paint can in the center of the room. The thickening red liquid oozed off every object and died everything a sickening crimson.

Dante looked on the bed and he choked, his head spinning as he heart stopped completely. He fell to his knees, suddenly completely weak. The tears poured down like a storm.

_Flash_

The wooden door flew inwards as Dante smashed it open. His boots sank into the drenched carpet. The blood from the doorframe was on his hands. The room was an ocean of blood.

His knees gave way and he fell.

The bed...

_Flash_

"NOOOOOOO!!!!!!" Dante screamed, sobbing horribly. He felt a hand on his neck and he wrenched his head up, seeing Stavios looking down on him, concerned.

"Did it happen again?" the vampire asked.

Dante couldn't speak and he couldn't stop himself from crying in front of the dark-haired man. His breathing was still haggard and he couldn't slow the blood rushing in his veins. He was incredibly dizzy.

'I can't be real. It just can't. It isn't déja vu. It's impossible because I know I didn't see that before. She wasn't...Trish isn't....'

"SHE CAN"T BE!! IT ISN"T REAL!!"

Stavios stepped back and cried out at the top of his voice. "Who can't be?" he asked, "What isn't real?"

Dante got shakily to his feet, still sobbing. "I have to get back to her. I have to know. This can't be...it just can't..."

The dark-haired vampire watched in awe as Dante transformed into a devil and tore off into the sky, disappearing into the night.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Well that's about long enough for this chapter. Hope you guy's liked it.

BTW, _Bustahead_: I don't know why but Dary reminds me of you. I didn't write her that way but when I was rereading her part, you just came to mind. I don't know.shrugs Hope you don't hate me for it.

Anyway, REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW


	4. Fighting to Lose

Yay. Finally another chapter….Took long enough.  Sorry for the wait and big BIG thanks for all the reviews.  Really appreciate hearing what you guys think.

So hears the next chap

Enjoy

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

**Awake & Dead**

**_Chap 3: Fighting to Lose_**

            Stavios watched helplessly as the devil hunter vanished into darkness.  He had had the son of Sparda in his grasp and had let him go.

It would happen after all.

He roared and kicked the ground, stopping suddenly as a thought came to his mind.  'Perhaps he is not out of range...'

            Dante flew through the air as fast as he could.  Even though he was exhausted and in pain, his body was just a second thought to him.  He had to get back to the city-back to Trish.  He had to know if it was true-if it was too late.

            _Come back_

            The devil hunter stopped abruptly, his body acting without his consent.  He flapped in mid air and began to turn back the way he had come.

            "NO!"

He tried to fight the urge to return to the cemetery, but it was no use.  He was flying back, despite his inner protests.  Why was his body not obeying him?

            'That's back son of Sparda.'  The dark haired vampire smiled, his eyes shut as he concentrated on bringing the devil hunter to him.

            "Do you honestly believe that you can stop the future that way?"

            Stavios' eyes shot open and darted behind him to the clown.  He growled.  "That was my intent."

            Jester chuckled. "You are wasting your time."

            "Perhaps," the vampire said calmly, "But perhaps not.  We shall see whose time has been wasted soon enough." He looked to the sky and saw the dark shadow of Dante coming towards Gauntway.

            The evil clown turned his own head to the clouds, frowning.  "The darkness cannot be stopped and we will not let you have the son of Sparda.  He is much too important to my master."

            "I am aware of his importance to you and that is why I must not let you succeed."

            Jester grinned menacingly, "I'm afraid you don't have the option of stopping this."  He opened his jacket, revealing a small pendant on a chain.  Stavios turned at the sound of the shuffling cloth and his eyes widened.

            "You are the one-"

            _Flash_

            Stavios rammed his foot into the dirt, crying out in frustration.  He paused at the all too familiar scene; the thought of drawing the devil hunter to him coming to mind.

            "Something the matter, Vampire?"

            The dark-haired man spun round to face the clown and charged without warning.  "YOU!" he yelled, vaulting forwards in an attempted tackle.

A smile spread across his enemy's lips.

            _Flash_

            Stavios went from watching the retreating devil hunter in the sky to staring at his own blood, leaking through his fingers as he leaned forward on his knees, holding his stomach.  His eyes drifted up slowly to the clown standing before him; a marionette waiting patiently at his side, one of its pendulum blades dripping with the vampire's blood.

            Stavios grimaced and closed his eyes, concentrating with all his will to luring the devil hunter back to the cemetery.

            "Are you still attempting to bring the son of Sparda back here so that you may kill him?" The dark clown scowled and nodded at the marionette, which sliced its blade through the vampire's shoulder.  Stavios howled in pain and fell forwards.

            "Y-yes," he mumbled, somewhat into the dirt.

            "Look at me when you address my questions."

            Stavios felt his arms gradually jerked upwards on invisible strings, his right arm hanging in agony.  He lifted his head, gritting his teeth and staring at Jester with malice as blood from his shoulder gash dripped down his face and hair.

            He winced.  "I will do whatever it takes to stop the future that I have been shown."

            Jester laughed, "I have told you before that your time is being wasted. You have already ended your life foolishly, and now you choose to wage a fruitless battle with the darkness.  Don't you see?" He opened his jacket, revealing the pendant to the vampire once more, "That even if you were to succeed in killing the devil hunter, your efforts would prove worthless.  I control time.  Or have you forgotten?"

            Stavios' eyes visibly widened at the last remark.  He had not even considered that time could easily be reversed if he killed Dante.  Had he been wasting centuries for nothing?  Had he truly ended his life so long ago in vain?

            "No!" he growled, "This can't be..."

            Jester smirked.  "I'm afraid it can," he said sardonically, "You have lost.  The devil hunter is now out of your reach and he will soon come upon the wonderful scene I and my puppets have left for him."

            "And in any case," he waved his hand, "You are in no shape to battle the son of Sparda.  You spent what little energy you had toying with him earlier.  I can see that.  You are tired…And you are hungry.  You should have fed on that loathsome child you took pity on…Such foolishness for a vampire."

            He sneered and Stavios fell silent.  Missing the look of disdain on the clown's frightful face, he stared blankly at the ground and the droplets of blood dribbling off his chin.  The clown was right.  He was exhausted and he had overestimated his own powers.  Even if he managed to pull Dante back, he hadn't the strength now to kill him.  He was weak from the lack of blood and his face and body were finally showing the signs of centuries of thirst.

            Without thinking, he flicked his tongue over his lips, tasting the blood that had edged down his face into the parting of his mouth.  His or no, the brief tingle it sparked throughout his body was enough to intensify his hunger and strengthen his feeling of misery and helplessness.

He could not believe that it was over already-That he had failed.

"But perhaps it is not as dismal as it appears," Jester continued with a delighted coolness to his voice. "You're outlook may soon change."  He turned, a dark pool appearing before him. "Things always look brighter in the morning..." 

Stavios lifted his eyes up suddenly, realizing in horror that the sky was paling.  His breath caught in his throat and he struggled agonizingly against the marionette's spell, but he gave up after a short time, gasping against his dislocated arm as he hung feebly over the ground.

Jester took a last grinning look at him and disappeared with the marionette into the shadow, the black hole closing behind them, a lingering dark chuckle drifting from them to the vampire's ears.

            Dante saw the city come into view and breathed a sigh of relief, however short-lived it was.  Somehow seeing the tall, brightly lit buildings made him breath slightly easier, even if his heart was still beating a mile a minute.

He burst through the low hanging clouds and tore down towards the streets, anxious to reach ground before his devil trigger ran out.  He touched down just as the blue aura disappeared and he became human again.  Looking around, he realized he was on the other side of town and nowhere near Devil May Cry.  It would take him the rest of the night just to run back to DMC and by then, Dante knew he would be too late.

He looked up and down the street at the rows of parked cars and ran to the nearest one, more than ready to steal it when he happened to hear the low rumble of a car approaching.  He turned and whipped out his guns and moved into the street, pointing the barrels at the surprised driver.  The man's car screeched to a halt before Dante and he walked casually towards the driver's door and tapped on the glass with one of his handguns.

"Get out."

The terrified motorist hesitated for only a second before he quickly flung off his seatbelt and jumped out of the car.  Dante climbed in right after him, not wanting to waste anymore time.

"Thanks buddy," he said as the tires swerved and he took off down the road, driving like a mad man.  He didn't care who he ran over or how many traffic laws he broke at this point.  Trish was his only concern and he had to get back to her, no matter the cost.  It had already seemed like an eternity just to get where he was now, especially having felt earlier that he was backtracking for an instant, and he was not about to stop for anything if it meant he could get to the blond woman in time.

After a quarter of the time it would have normally taken the devil hunter to drive across town, Dante arrived before the neon lights of Devil May Cry, nearly jumping out of the car before it had stopped completely.  He ran up to the wooden doors and froze, suddenly unable to face what was inside.

He needed to know, but he didn't want to know, if the grizzly visions he had seen earlier in the night were real.  How could he just waltz right in and see Trish dead-and not just dead-massacred, right in their bedroom?  The vision was bad enough but the reality of it would be a million times worse.

"Trish..."

Dante's forehead hit the door and he remained there, leaning against it while he took long breathes, trying to calm himself.  His hand went for the door handle but grazed the smooth metal and fell off.  He took another deep breath and grasped the handle feebly, pushing the door inwards.  He stepped inside and the air immediately constricted in his throat from the sweet smell of blood.  The optimist in him vanished completely.  Trish was dead. There was no question about it.

**::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::**

Short. I know but I needed to get this up so I could move on to the next chap which should be pretty long.

Anyway, please remember to review.

REVIEWREVIEWREVIEW


	5. Sunrise

Not much to say except, here's the next chapter.

Enjoy

**Awake & Dead**

**_Chap 4: _****_Sunrise_****__**

Stavios felt the marionette's spell slacken then die away completely. He dropped heavily to the ground and winced loudly as his shoulder was crushed under the weight of his body. Blood pooled out of his wounds and seeped into the dirt, creating a sweet smelling mud beneath him.

The sight of his blood sinking into the ground was painful, but the scent of it was pure agony. His thirst was beyond measure.

The eternity he had passed while confined in a stone coffin, unable to drink had made him strong. Just how powerful he did not know, but it was long enough a time for him to be a match or more to the son of Sparda-or so he hoped.

But while his strength had grown, his new power did not come without a price and although he had seemed and felt normal when he had first awoken, he was now beginning to succumb to the weariness and pain brought by the absence of blood.

Every ounce of the crimson liquid that left his body intensified his thirst and caused his body to become all the more drawn and skeletal.

He silently wondered how the little Dary girl would react to his present appearance and almost laughed at the thought of her shrieking and running away…Though at this time he might not have given her that option.

All the more he thought on it, the more the clown's mention of his stupidity in not claiming the life of the child plagued him. He had thought it mercy. His personal rule of not taking the life of an innocent child-no matter how talkative and irksome they might be-was something Stavios had always tried not to break-no matter his hunger.

He had managed in the past. Yet in the past he had never been this desperate for any sustenance. If Dary were to come back right now, Stavios knew that the scent of her sweet, pure blood would consume him and he would not think twice before taking her life.

He prayed she would listen to his warnings and stay away. He tried to push her out of his mind and forget how close he had been to drinking from her before. He tried to suppress the part of him that wanted her to return to him-the part that would use his last remaining strength to summon her back. He tried to convince himself that he didn't want the little girl, but his raging thirst and weakening state won the inner debate.

He wanted her. And he needed her soon.

* * *

The room was just ahead, the door closed, the space behind it quiet. It could have been that Trish was sleeping peacefully behind the door. Nothing about the closed room seemed menacing and any other day, Dante would not have thought twice about opening it.

But this wasn't any other day and Dante knew better than to trust his hope and imagination. He wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that what he'd seen hadn't been real-He couldn't now. The smell of blood was too strong and fresh-It was too real to be just in his head.

As he slowly glided his feet towards the door, he felt himself stumbling on objects that did not even clutter the empty carpet. He moved with as much grace as a drunk man and the closer he got, the more his head swooned as the scent from the bedroom intensified.

When he had finally made it halfway, he suddenly fell; his legs giving out on him. He didn't make a move to stand and he began to wonder why he was even heading for the door when he was sure, as he told himself, that Trish was dead inside. Why did he have to see it with his own eyes-in reality-if he was so certain?

Gradually he bent over and crawled the remaining distance to the door. He didn't look at the room ahead the whole time and when he finally reached the edge, he felt one hand squish into the edge of soggy carpet below the door.

His face blanched and he stood in a flash, out of shock. He rubbed his fingers together before his eyes, shuddering as the thickening red liquid smoothed along his long digits. He gasped and his body began shuddering uncontrollably. His legs went weak once again and they sagged as he grabbed the door handle. He forced himself to hang onto the smooth knob and he listened, waited with closed eyes and he suddenly heard a soft groan. His eyes shot open.

"TRISH!!"

Dante turned the handle and burst through the door, the familiar sensation of his feet sinking into the blood soaked carpet; blood all over the walls; dead body on the bed, long blond hair tangled and crusted with the crimson liquid; sheets torn; objects smashed. It was the vision come to life. Trish was very much dead and the moan Dante had heard had just been in his imagination.

The devil hunter choked and slumped in the doorway, feeling nauseated from the squish of the carpet and the cooling blood soaking into his pants. His head fell against the doorframe and he stared blindly at the scene before him, his arms dangling at his sides. He couldn't look at the bed. He couldn't see Trish lying there-lifeless. He wanted to get out of there as fast as he could but his body wasn't listening to his commands.

He closed his eyes tight and opened them slowly, hoping that what he'd seen would disappear and everything would be back to normal. But even before he opened them, he knew it was a pointless action. The lingering smell of blood gave it away and suddenly Dante's thoughts raged on the vampire in the cemetery. The dark-haired man had known something. He hadn't told him much, but Dante could tell now that he'd been hiding something and he planned on finding out just what exactly it was.

Getting to his feet was easy now that he had a purpose to move-other than to just get away from the carnage of the room. He stood tall in the doorway and surveyed the room with a focused gaze. He wanted to know what demon had destroyed the room and slashed at Trish's body mercilessly.

By the look of things, it could have been any mindless minion to the darkness, but Dante was pretty certain that it could only be one type-The Marionettes. He knew because everything that had happened that night was connected somehow. It all went back to the clown at the circus, the one whose face was a grinning skull and whose attire looked like it had been taken from a decaying corpse.

Jester. Yes. It all had something to do with that mad entertainer whose true form only Dante seemed able to see. But why? Why was it that Dante could see right through the mask? Not just because he was a devil hunter or even half demon himself. There was something so familiar and terrifying about Jester that Dante was certain that the circus was not the first time and place he'd ever seen him. Jester was something from long ago, but just when, Dante didn't know. All he knew was that Jester had made him see the Marionettes and the Fetishes when he stood in the arena and he had nearly caused him to kill a few harmless clowns.

The vision had been so real. So much so that it wasn't new to him. It was more like a forgotten memory being brought back to light. He'd seen it all before; the vacant eyes of the demon puppets; their cold laughter; the heat of the Fetishes' flaming breath. It was all old news that seems to trace back further than Mallet Island when he had encountered all those demons.

Dante growled and shook his head. He couldn't reason anymore. He needed to get out of DMC and go someplace to clear his mind. Hopefully then he'd be able to think straight. It wasn't like he could act now anyway, at least not in terms of searching for the vampire. Being day, it was pointless to seek a demon that wouldn't be awake for another eight hours or so.

Leaving the room for a moment, Dante went to an upstairs closet and took out a clean sheet and a towel and brought it back to the room. He walked uncaringly through the blood now to the bed and immediately wiped Trish's face clean, seeing that it hadn't been damaged and if he ignored her body and the rest of the room, it was as if she was just sleeping peacefully.

"I'll get them back, Trish," he said quietly so he wouldn't hear his voice break with sadness. "I'll fix this. Somehow I'll find a way."

He sighed loudly and stepped back, flinging out the clean sheet so that it floated down slowly over Trish, covering her completely. He didn't want to leave her exposed while he was gone.

Dante turned away and never looked back or around him while he left the room , shutting the door quietly behind him. He made his way downstairs and pulled Alastor off the wall. He knew he wouldn't be back to DMC for a while and he wanted his sword with him so he could go after Stavios as soon as the sun set.

* * *

The dark-haired vampire remained motionless, slowly hissing in air and lacking the energy or the will to move, regardless of the menace of the rising sun. He felt it better to shrivel and burn to brittle ash, than face what was to come. At least he told himself as much, though not very convincingly.

He looked up at the sky and immediately felt the scorching brightness of the coming morning. He closed his eyes at once and lifted himself slowly to his hands and knees, his limbs quivering with the action. He put no weight on his right shoulder and already that arm was burning painfully from the sunlight.

Stavios crawled a few feet, sensing, rather than seeing a mausoleum dead ahead where he could take shelter before his body succumbed to the spell of sleep. His pace slackened with every movement and at the steps of the stone crypt, his head dropped to the ground and his body followed suit. He couldn't go on and what was the point anyway? By the time night fell, Jester would already have gotten to the devil hunter and everything Stavios had aimed to stop by his earlier confrontation with Dante would have begun by then.

Lost in his defeat, the dark-haired man stopped listening to the sounds of the outside world. He retreated into his mind and did not hear the hurried steps of a child making their way towards him. He only felt the slight vibration in the ground, but that, he ignored.

He became angry at the thought of his loss. He was enraged by the idea that he'd been damned and would fail in stopping the rise of the Dark One all because of a shiny trinket on a chain. He couldn't let his last moments be like this. He couldn't go out now, having spent an eternity sleeping and getting stronger without putting up a fight. He simply couldn't.

"STAAAVEY."

The annoying sing-song of Dary's voice was enough to snap him back to reality and Stavios opened his eyes, see the young girl bent beside him, her head tilted to the side, observing him.

"Watcha doing?" she asked sweetly.

"Dying," Stavios said frankly, "And did I not tell you to stay away?"

"Yup," Dary nodded. The smell of her blood rose above all other scents and Stavios breathed it in, pushing himself up slowly so he was just above her eye level.

He frowned. "Then why are you here? You said you would not come back. You lied to me."

"Yeah. But you told be to come."

The vampire froze. "I did?"

"Uh huh. You told me to come back. I was sleeping and then I heard you and you told me to come back. So I did." Dary's eyes widened in excitement, "Are you going to play with me this time? Is that why you told me to come? I wanna play hide and seek cuz it's more fun than tag and there's lotsa good places here to hide. So do I count first or do you want me to hide?"

Stavios's frown deepened dramatically before rising into a tortured smile. "No," he looked at Dary straight on, ignoring the burning in his eyes, "No. You will not be hiding. You've already lost."

"But we haven' started playing," Dary stared at him, confused, and suddenly let out a small gasp, finally registering his appearance. "What happened to you? Are you sick? Do you need a doctor? My uncle's a doctor a-"

"I don't need a doctor Dary." He took her chin with his thin fingers. "I just need you. Only you…And your blood."

The darkness of his eyes vanished and he bowed his head to her neck, biting down quickly before she could make a sound or protest. She did not fight him and went completely limp in his arms as he drank. It was not long before he'd taken her life, but there was no time for thought or remorse. He lifted the girl's lifeless body and carried her weightless form to the mausoleum with him.

Out of the sun he felt better but he needed rest desperately. Scattering the remains of a coffin on the floor, he placed Dary's body inside and slid the lid into the place, then made room for himself in another, larger stone box. He was in a deep sleep even before the cover put him in darkness.

When the sun rose, it would be the devil hunter's turn to die.

* * *

That's it for now. Remember to review and thanks to all who've bothered to do so. Really appreciate the feedback. 


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